


House-Cleaning

by Elleth



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Backstory, Family Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6511030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/pseuds/Elleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a quiet winter in Dalsnes while Sigrun is away, with only slightly advanced kinds of crazy in the extended Eide household.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House-Cleaning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [helia7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helia7/gifts).



> Written for Helia for the SSSS forum fic exchange. I hope you enjoy! ♥

Liv Eide yawned into her mug of coffee and glanced out of the window at the frozen town of Dalsnes in morning twilight. The night had brought new snow that still lay pristine apart from the light-footed trails of scouts and guards setting out for duty in the early hours, and down at Innvik the longships lay motionless at anchor, every one of them wearing a cap of snow on its dragon-head. There hadn't been any troll activity at all since winter had come, apart from a few vermin beasts that the cat squads had dispatched of in minutes. 

Quaint. Quiet. 

_Boring_. 

Just as the past nine days since Sigrun had left.

Ordinarily, Sigrun would be up and about by now, puttering around the hearth and stuffing her cheeks with bread so slathered in butter and honey that it was a miracle she'd learned not to drip half of it down her front. Something was missing. Two somethings, in fact: Sigrun's father was not an early riser, or an easy one for that matter. Not even the promise of the fresh shipment of Icelandic greenhouse coffee that had arrived with a supply barge the evening before - blessed be military service; they'd never be able to afford it on an ordinary salary - had been able to drive Lars from the bed. 

She knew why, too. He took Sigrun's absence hard; Sigrun had always been the apple of her father's eye and to know that she was traipsing around some unlucky Danish city with a crew he hadn't been able to vet gnawed on his mind. Unfortunately, his worry mostly manifested by him staying in bed and wallowing in it, sometimes knitting, rather than getting up and making himself useful, to be added to his usual refusal to get out of bed in the mornings - although to be fair, there was not much to be done at the moment in the way of usefulness, and so she didn't quite have the heart to drive him out from under the covers. Winter was the season of skalds who pored over logs from the hunts to immortalize them in the town chronicles and glean new ideas and intelligence that might work as advantages over their enemies, while blacksmiths, woodwrights and mechanics fixed the equipment that had been damaged during the summer season. 

For anyone as involved with military service as the troops and the Generals themselves, it was a time of rest and relaxation, apart from the usual training regime and overseeing the drilling of the autumn's new recruits. Trond had hated winter almost as much as he now hated retirement proper, and without her daughter to liven things up, Liv found that he was right - it was quickly approaching unbearable and she was desperate to keep busy.

She muttered darkly into her coffee and drained the cooled mug, looking up when footsteps shuffled into the kitchen from the other half of the longhouse, and someone draped their form into a chair by the fire. Trudi, one of the homestead cats, twined around her legs with a deep, rumbling purr.

"M'ning." If possible, Ragne Eriksen née Eide, Skald, was even less of a morning person than her brother even when she succeeded in dragging herself out of bed. But they were sisters-in-law both ways, with Ragne being Lars' sister and marrying Liv's own brother, and they got along well enough for Liv to take mercy on her and slide over a fresh mug of coffee.

"Good morning." 

"D'nt look so good this morning, you," Ragne muttered and inhaled the steam rising from her mug, cradling it between her hands. Her telltale Eide hair, still unfairly free of grey, fell over her face in a thick red curtain, and her eyes blinked from the shadows. 

"I suppose not. Without Sigrun around you might as well have given all of Dalsnes a sedative, this house especially. I wish it were possible for humans to hibernate." 

"You just miss her. 's not quite as bad." 

"Last year, Sigrun set off half the border sirens _from her hospital bed_ , the year before that - it was her who started with that town-wide snowball fight, her and Dagny, and she won't be doing any of that this year either with her arms like that, poor thing. It is quite as bad. This year we could at least have had a good old feud on our hands, after Sigrun elbowed Kjell in the face. I almost wish Lars hadn't broken up that fight."

Liv made to take another sip of coffee and grumbled when she found her mug empty. 

"Could still go feuding with him on account of insult to your daughter and yourselves," Ragne continued. "What did he call her again, 'you product of old fox barf and a piece of whale beast blubber?'" She set her mug down to reach for a slice of bread, and while Ragne's attention was on her breakfast, Liv made short work of her sister-in-law's remaining coffee, bracing herself for the protest when she slid the mug back onto the table, empty. 

"Charming of you to remind me, but yes. I did corner Kjell about it, as a matter of fact, and the boy agreed to help with a housecleaning session in atonement for his disrespect. I was surprised he agreed at all, but that's why I said 'almost'; even he has that much common sense. This'd be a feud with your twin brother and his wife over _her_ brother's firstborn. This family is a genealogical nightmare - remind me again why I married into it."

Ragne was too busy squinting at her empty coffee mug to answer. Her evil look might have shaken someone less familiar with her, before she barked out a short, sharp laugh. "Hrm. If you weren't the one paying for the coffee, I'd give you a good rubbing-down with snow now." 

"You're not awake enough to catch me, sister dearest," Liv countered. "Or fast enough."

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that!" 

Three minutes later, any passersby on the main road through Dalsnes near the Eide homestead could hear two women in their fifties - and in their nightgowns - screeching as they pelted each other with clumps of snow. It took Lars and Ulvrek, finally out of their respective beds, to pull them apart. Ragne's husband wrapped her in a blanket and slung her over his shoulder, unceremoniously carrying her back into the house while she levelled another impressive but impotent death-glare at Liv. The gaggle of onlookers dispersed quickly when the spectacle was over; none of them seemed to want to risk the wrath they'd incur for gawking at Generals Eide and Eide.

"You drew first blood! You owe me a house-cleaning for this as well! I will see you on my doorstep at 12:00 sharp!" Liv yelled after Ragne while she was pressing a handful of snow to the bridge of her nose to stem the bleeding she'd sustained in their tussle. Sigrun was not the only Eide woman with elbows she wasn't afraid to use. 

Lars hovered nearby with a frown. "Do you want to tell me what just happened, or can I put this down to the normal kind of crazy in our household?" 

"The slightly advanced kind, I would say. Slightly. I had forgotten just how much the she-troll you call your sister loses her sense of humor when her coffee is concerned. It's a good thing I married an Eide man; your women are vicious and I will never understand why that trait only surfaces in them." 

"You're the one who gave birth to one of them, sweetheart. If you can't tell, no one can." 

"Sigrun gets that from your side of the family, and for that alone you owe me a lifetime of servitude. Be a dear and go see if we have any more favours to call in from the Captains or the troops. We might as well make use of bribery and get the house uncluttered while Sigrun is away. Her part of it is as close to a troll's nest as any human can get." 

Lars helped her to her feet and smiled before leaning in to kiss her cheek. "We aren't Trond - yet - but there must be some favours that they owe us to help fight the mess our daughter darling has made. And I think I sense a theme between the women of our family and trollishness. If it weren't for Aksel's hair showing up so reliably, I might start believing there was something Grandmother Sigrun took to her grave without telling us." 

"I have no doubt there are many things she took to her grave without telling us, but if there were troll blood in your veins I doubt you would have turned into the man you are. I wondered why I married into this family earlier, but I have the answer right here." 

Liv gave him a little push when Lars leaned in for another kiss. "Now go on, you big sap. Drag people here by their hair if you have to." 

"And she says the Eide-born women are trolls…" he muttered as he went off. "It's in the name, in the name, I'm telling you." Liv smiled to herself, wiped away the blood and went back into the house. 

* * *

"... and if we are done before it gets too late, there will be coffee." 

Liv Eide looked around the faces of her house-cleaning team. Apart from Kjell, Lars had also managed to convince Dagny to join them from the ranks of the Captains, although Liv could remember no favour that she owed. Only her left arm still was in a cast, and her face lifted in expectation of the announcement of coffee - maybe that had been all it had taken to lure her in. Ragne was grumbling under her breath at no one in particular, careful to keep her voice low enough to mask what she was saying. Liv raised an eyebrow, and Ulvrek grasped Ragne's arm when she took a threatening step forward. 

Before the confrontation of that morning could continue, Ingrid Eide-Andersen, first of the Eide-Andersens (and last of them if her mother had any say in it) pushed forward and stuck her tongue out. "I'm ten! I can't drink _coffee_!"

"Make that, 'I can't drink coffee so my mother will not be having a nervous breakdown'," Idunn Eide countered, leaning against the door post. "You behave yourself today, or you can help your father in the stables for - hmmm, until the New Year." She was Sigrun's age (and Sigrun's cousin), and as an army doctor she had nerves of steel, but raising Ingrid was doing her no favours. In Liv's mind the harried-looking Swedish mother of three whom Trond had described as one of Sigrun's expedition organizers had Idunn's face, and vice versa. 

"Cooool, horses!" 

Idunn's mien crumpled in face of her daughter's enthusiasm, and she raked a hand through the frazzled remains of her shoulder-length red braid. "Yes, and gods willing your father would be making you clean their stables, not let you ride. You would come home smelling of horse dung every night, and I'd be making you take a bath each and every evening."

"Then I'll flood the bathroom every night!" 

"I will… I will…" 

"Not fret your head over your demon daughter for the moment," Liv Eide said and put an arm around Idunn's shoulder. "Why don't you go on and brew yourself a cup of chamomile tea to calm down. You know where to find things. Come join us when you feel like it. No use sending a nervous soldier into the fray. Ingrid, we will find something that is not coffee for you." 

Idunn gave her a shaky smile. "Thank you, Auntie General. And don't let Ingrid burn your house down; after she heard there was a Cleanser on Sigrun's team her latest aspiration is to join them, and she insists on… practicing." In a whisper she added, "I had to hide all our candles."

Liv laughed. "Oh dear. I do not think Sigrun's troll's nest is quite as terrible as that, and at least she allowed us to clean it out, but fire might attract attention we should probably avoid. We will keep an eye on her." 

With Idunn reassured, placated and out of the way, and Ingrid armed with a feather-duster that even she would be hard-pressed to use for mischief, Liv set out to delegate the rest of the tasks and cleaning implements to her small army. 

"Uncluttering and dusting first, take care that you get rid of the spiderwebs. I sent the cats through earlier; there are no vermin beasts that they could find, so if anything jumps out at you it is going to be non-infected, but that should be a moot point with all of you unless the gods withdrew their goodwill from someone, in which case I expect your request for resignation from hunting on my desk after this. Sweeping after the dusting is done. Sigrun's bedroom is off-limits unless you want her chasing you into the sea when she gets back."

"Well, I'm not cleaning Sigrun's _toilet_ ," Kjell muttered, staring at the mop in his hand as though it might come alive to eat him. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a volunteer!" Lars announced with a lopsided grin. "We all know how well you know her bedroom." One of the tricks his daughter had picked up from him was the only slightly grim but nonetheless unrelenting stare that Lars was now levelling on the young Captain, while the rest of the group laughed. 

"Sir, yes sir," Kjell drawled, not without looking like he had sat down in a patch of nettles. He jumped when Dagny poked him in the ribs with her thumb. "Aww, look on the bright side, at least we _have_ toilets. Unlike the Old-Time Vikings before. I think?" 

"Yeah, thanks." 

Dagny beamed. "You're welcome. She does have a nice bedroom, though. Her bed is so comfy."

"Now, no fighting in my house," Before Kjell and Dagny could work out just what to do to one another, Liv Eide clapped her hands. "It's Sigrun's decision, so take it up with her in spring. You're both going to get along under my roof." Both relented, grumbling, but it only took a moment for Dagny's trademark grin to return to her face.

She trusted most of these people with the lives of Dalsnes for a majority of the time, one way or the other. She would just have to trust that they would not lay her house into ruins in the course of one afternoon.

"Nothing else?" Silence. "Good. You know what to do." 

Liv and Lars retreated to their own living room to begin some uncluttering of their own. Ulvrek and Ragne's two sons had inherited their mother's historical-minded tendencies; they worked at a museum in Aurland that aimed to preserve artifacts of the Old World, and they had pronounced themselves happy to take all the clutter off their hands. For all of ten minutes there was peace and quiet, interrupted only by the occasional thumping and bumping from Sigrun's part of the house -- when it had become clear that she was growing up and her interests didn't include a family of her own, she had bluntly declared she would be staying with her parents rather than going through the hassle of building a house of her own on the Eide homestead, which was rapidly running out of space anyway.

Lars had been delighted. Liv Eide was fairly sure she had grown her first grey hair that day. 

At least, Liv thought with a sigh of relief as she paper-wrapped the porcelain figurine of a strange, long-nosed, big-eared animal that no longer lived in Norway if it wasn't blatantly fantastic to begin with, Sigrun had eventually relented far enough to want privacy of her own, so they had partitioned off the end of the house and converted it into Sigrun's own small space. Her erstwhile bedroom had been turned into a sitting room that doubled as office and storage space because she never used it, and it was there Sigrun's tendency to hoard clutter was at its worst. There was the bathroom that - hopefully - Kjell was in the process of making spotless. Her new bedroom was a platform in the rafters, and she shared the kitchen in the center of the house with Liv, Lars, Ragne and Ulvrek.

It was from Sigrun's sitting room that the rumble of falling boxes came, and, following shortly after, a piercing scream from Ragne, then Ingrid's excited noises. "Let me see, let me, _I wanna SEE_!" 

Liv looked at Lars. Lars stared at Liv. They nearly collided trying to fit through the door for the same moment; Liv managed to squeeze by at the last moment and was two steps ahead of her husband when she burst onto the scene.

She nearly stumbled over the training dummy Sigrun had stolen from the practice yards one night on a drunk bet, and that now wore her byrnie, helmet and childhood toy sword. It was Lars' arm around her waist that stopped her from falling face-first into the room to survey it in a slightly less embarrassing manner. 

A cloud of dust was settling over Sigrun's sitting room; thick, grey puffs of cat hair and worse that must have taken years to accumulate fell like snow. Ragne was holding Ingrid in a headlock to keep the struggling child from a red box amid a pile of upended cartons. Dagny was eyeing its contents with a mixture of disgust and fascination, and Trudi perched on her shoulder, apparently bewildered. Her ears lay flat against her skull and she had her stare trained on the box, but her fur barely stood on end, and the growl she let out was low and questioning.

Then she sneezed. 

"I thought you said you had sent the cats through!" Ragne finally succeeded in setting Ingrid on her feet and shoved her toward Liv, who found her arms full of a squirming ten-year-old. Not a new situation, that one, although not one she had faced in a while.

"Someone tell me what I am seeing here." 

"There's a vermin beast in that box!" Ingrid said amid excited waving of her arms. To her credit she was no longer trying to get close, and when Ragne lifted the thing by one of its two tails, it turned out to be brown and dry and wrinkled as a prune. It had seven legs, and after a moment its head, sporting a grotesquely elongated snout and the teeth to match, came loose and clattered onto the floorboards. Ingrid gagged and hid her face against Liv's body. 

"Well, no wonder Trudi is confused and did not pick up on it; this is long-dead. It is not a danger she could have detected, at least not in the last… let me guess… twenty years. Oh, _Sigrun_." 

"Longer than that." Lars had gone to kneel on the floor and picked a scroll of paper from the box that was held together by a pink hair tie that Liv dimly recognized as something she had tried and failed to put on her daughter once upon a time. When he unrolled the letter and started reading, Lars' voice shook and his eyes wrinkled at the corners, a sure sign that he was about to start laughing and not stop anytime soon.

" _From_ ," he read, and took a deep breath to try and compose himself. " _From Sigrun Eide aged four. Please dear Grandmamma General Berit Eide II, I want to join the military so I can kick troll butt because trolls are mean and I bet I would be great and Mamma said to Pappa we need more hunters to keep Dalsnes safe and the Forsvaret Thing are stupid for not sending more but please don't tell them I know that because they thought I was sleeping. And I'm immune and I can write already so I don't need to go to school instead and anyway I'm called like a Valkyrie so I'm really good at fighting. I even killed a beast already, look, I caught it with my own hands and then I got my knife and cut its head off like you need to do and it only bit my finger twice. I put it in the box for you I hope you like it. The grossling rat not my finger._

 _Yours Sigrun Eide your loving granddaughter who really really wants to join the military._ " 

" _Smileyface_ ," Dagny added, peering over his shoulder. "Does it have - is that a sword?"

Silence fell, apart from Lars' barely-contained laughter that he was valiantly failing to keep down. Dagny looked like Yule had come early for her and she was not sure what to do with it. Ragne stood with the dead rat dangling from her hand, apparently stunned into silent inaction for the moment. Liv could not blame her. 

When the astonishment finally settled (still punctuated by Lars chuckling to himself), Ingrid freed herself, looked up, and Liv shuddered to see the light in her eyes that was telltale of an Eide woman (even a young one) having made up her mind about her future. "Can I go burn it?" 

"No. Not unless your mother gives permission, and I do not think she will." Liv looked around the room, at Lars sitting on the floor and clutching the letter to himself, and at Ragne with the beast still in her hand. "Trudi. You know what to do, get rid of it." The cat fixed her a stare from her yellow eyes, but obeyed at once. Dagny swayed slightly at the sudden shift of weight when Trudi hopped from her shoulder, and steadied herself against the wall with her good arm. 

With her fluffy grey tail lifted like a banner, Trudi retrieved the beast from Ragne's hand and marched outside, her head held high like she had been given the most important task in the world. 

"Good. Lars, I think we will be staying here and helping in case of any more... unique discoveries. Thank the gods Sigrun never sent that letter, and decided to keep her little... trophy." 

A giggle. An honest-to-the-gods giggle.

"Lars."

"... the grossling rat not my finger..." 

Liv felt the corner of her mouth twitch. " _Lars_."

She would _not_ start laughing, but Liv Eide knew when a lost battle called for surrender, not continued resistance, and with the rest of the team beginning to snigger unabashedly in chorus with her husband, it was becoming harder to hold on to her dignity by the second.

Well. He had been awfully blue since Sigrun had left. It was good to see his spirits lift again. 

Her husband looked at her with barely-contained mirth. There were tears of restrained laughter forming in the corners of his eyes. He grasped her hand, pulled her to the floor and booped her on the nose. 

Her last reluctance crumbled. 

Liv Eide laughed until her stomach ached. 

* * * 

The sun had set, and Dalsnes lay in the comfortable orange glow of lamplight over yet more freshly fallen snow. 

Liv Eide quietly thanked the gods that someone in maintenance had managed to keep the power running through the weather as she topped up the final mug of coffee and regretfully eyed the rapidly dwindling supply that was left of the fresh shipment - but all things considered, her team had done an admirable job. It was her duty and honour as the head of the house and one of the Generals of Dalsnes to see all of them provided for. They deserved the reward for the afternoon's work. 

About half of the cartons in Sigrun's office had been emptied and sorted for the museum. Ragne was inordinately pleased and had forgiven Liv everything after the second mug of coffee. Ingrid had exhausted herself waving around another toy sword of Sigrun's arsenal they had found in one of the boxes, and slept leaning on her mother's shoulder, still clutching the wooden weapon. 

Liv had been reluctant to leave it to her - it was the very weapon Sigrun had knocked one of her own teeth out with (they had found that tooth as well, at the bottom of the same box, under a stack of dismal school records and a bunad Sigrun had worn exactly once).

Idunn was downing another cup of chamomile tea, but now that her daughter was asleep she looked a little more put-together than she had all afternoon. Kjell smelled like he had showered in vinegar instead of using it for cleaning and his fingertips were scrubbed red, but upon inspection Sigrun's bathroom sparkled in a way that Liv had not thought possible. Dagny was happily chatting away with Ulvrek; the caffeine made her babble like a mountain brook while they sorted through some of the more intriguing finds from Sigrun's office that weren't fit for the museum, and instead lay piled up in the middle of the immense kitchen table they'd all gathered around.

"... but I thought she didn't like to read?" Dagny asked, picking up a stack of books. "Hated it, actually."

"She does," Liv confirmed. "I think it's sentimentality that made her squirrel those away. They are practically family heirlooms at this point."

"Well - if you had family with the Bergen public library…" 

"Not that I know of - look." Liv pulled a well-worn book from the middle of the stack and flipped open the back cover. The library stamp had been scrawled over in thick black writing. 

**PROPERTY OF SIGRUN LARSEN!!!**

"Aw," Dagny said and laughed. "I suppose Bergen no longer needed those; I don't think trolls can read. What's the book, anyway?" 

Wordlessly, Liv handed it to her. 

" _How to be a Viking for Dummies_ ," Dagny read. Her eyebrows were practically climbing to hide in her hairline. "I… suppose... Sigrun wouldn't need _that_ , no." 

Liv hid her grin behind her coffee mug as she took another long swig. If they had been missing out on blackmail material for Dagny before, it seemed she had figured out how to get at it: all she needed to do was fill up Dagny's mug and let her talk. 

"So, these are staying, I take it," Ragne said, rifling through another, slightly more academic-looking book, and with a noise of surprise pulled out something from between the pages to place it on the table for all to see. Two people, one dark-haired and one red, side by side, fingers laced together and beaming at the viewers.

"Now that's one for the mead-hall," Ragne said, and Liv found herself faced with a grin that made her blood run cold. "I don't think you have a wedding picture of yourselves up on the wall yet, _do you_? A photo, at that. I had no idea you were that indulgent." 

Liv was opening her mouth to answer when the kitchen door slammed open and Lars clattered into the room, falling into his chair beside Liv at the head of the table. A moment, and he began reaching for the pile, pulling close to himself the stack of books, framed locks of hair from Sigrun's consecutive haircuts, a journal of Sigrun Eide, aged thirteen and newly recruited into the military with her parents' reluctant permission after her finishing Barneskole, and sundry other finds.

"Dear… and this is what now?" Liv asked. 

"Trond called in from headquarters," Lars said. 

"Trond called in from headquarters and said…?" Liv was beginning to feel the elation of the evening ebb. Trond, who had begun to be old at age twenty-four when his fiancée had not made it home from a troll hunt, would not call without reason, and he knew better than to play his little games with Lars. 

"... the Dane reported in to him earlier. Sigrun has a cold."

"Are you _sure_ Trond was not joking? Or possibly drunk?" 

"No, he was quite serious." Lars' hold on Sigrun's various possessions tightened, while there were various frowns around the table. 

"Sigrun doesn't get sick. Ever," Kjell muttered. "Sir, with all due respect, he must have been pranking you, sir." 

"Poor Sigrun," Dagny said. "I hope she's going to be all right again soon. What happened anyway?" 

Lars frowned at the pile of Sigrun's possessions in his arms. "A vette mauled her arm yesterday. Today she tore her stitches, had a fainting spell, took a bath with a sjødraug and ran around outside for hours afterwards. Now she has a cold." 

"So… all in a day's work? I mostly feel sorry for her team," Idunn concluded, her voice only slightly too sober to be making light of Sigrun's adventures, but Liv found it a good attempt. She didn't quite trust herself to sound the same way, but thankfully her niece was not yet done talking, following her words with a quirk of her lips. "I hope for their sake that that Mikkel is worth anything as a medic; it would just be cruel to make them suffer. Do you remember the last time she was sick? Not hurt, sick." Her voice inadvertently grew hushed.

It had been years and years, but Liv remembered. Lars looked like he remembered. Ulvrek looked like he was recalling a nightmare from ages past, which was not an unfair description of that time. Idunn stared away into space. 

Liv took the moment to pull Lars' arms away, and kept his hands under hers on the table. 

"It will be fine. Sigrun will be fine. Her team will be suffering more than her. You should radio Trond your recipe for chicken soup so he can pass it along." 

"If they can find a chicken in the Silent World, I suppose…" 

"See. Stop worrying, our daughter is going to be just fine." Liv leaned in to peck him on the lips just quickly. "Give it a few days, and she will be back to doing what she has been doing since she turned thirteen."

"Driving her parents to despair?" 

Liv smiled. "Hunting trolls. But that, too, dear. That, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Liv isn't quite wrong with the Eide family being a genealogical nightmare, and to not totally lose view of the relationships between people, I made [this family tree](https://40.media.tumblr.com/5c1e5a34406fb27a059ff33e79e9b575/tumblr_o5een7V87G1skeq86o1_1280.png). Only a fraction of the characters show up or get mentioned in the story, but others may make appearances in some of my future fics.
> 
> (Kjell is, of course, One-Eye, and Dagny is No-Arms, though she's not related to the Eide family in any way. And if you think Lars is named in honour of Lars B., you may just be right. :D)


End file.
